


Four Sambucas

by lets_talk_appella



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Humor, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 04:49:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15089372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lets_talk_appella/pseuds/lets_talk_appella
Summary: Beca is the DJ at a popular club and she's just doing her thing when an incredibly drunk Chloe confuses her with the bartender.





	Four Sambucas

**Author's Note:**

> This was based on an Instagram post of a drunk girl in a club mistaking the DJ for the bartender. In this version, Beca is the DJ and Chloe the drunk girl. Hope it makes you laugh!

Beca flipped switch after switch on her soundboard, making sure that the bass dropped perfectly in sync with the pink and purple strobe lights flashing over the dance floor. The writhing and jumping mass of twenty-somethings in front of her served as testament to her skills as DJ; she made sure that people came for the booze but stayed for her music. 

She glanced down at her phone to check the time. It was nearing closing. Beca turned to prep her signature finale series that would leave the club-goers yelling out for more. She knew it was a sure way to bring them back weekend after weekend. 

Just as she leaned over to check her equipment, she paused. She thought she’d heard something over the pounding bass and the techno noises of the club music. She heard it again; someone was shouting “Hey!” over and over.

Beca turned to look behind her and saw a redhead peering over the wall into the DJ booth. Beca raised an eyebrow. Maybe the girl wanted to request a song?

Beca moved to the girl, who was probably about her same age. She couldn’t help but notice that the redhead was incredibly beautiful and had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. She was also completely smashed, judging by the slight sway in her stance and the droop of her eyelids.

“What?” Beca asked loudly, hoping the girl could hear here.

The girl looked delighted to have gotten Beca’s attention. “Four Sambucas!” she yelled over the music.

Beca stared, brow furrowed in confusion. Was that a song? She’d never heard of it.

The redhead held up four fingers and repeated at full volume, “Four Sambuas!”

Bewildered, Beca watched as the girl leaned forward to rest her head on the wall of the booth. Then it hit her; the girl must have thought she was the bartender, not the DJ. 

Beca smiled to herself. This girl was way too far gone to be requesting four of anything else, so maybe it was a good thing she wasn’t at the actual bar. Beca looked to the girl’s friends, a tall blonde and an even taller (and well-endowed) brunette, hoping that they could help explain the situation, but they just grinned back at her in amusement. Well, the brunette did; the blonde looked like she was choking on something.

Deciding that she might as well play along for her own amusement, Beca called out, “Do you have any money?” 

The redhead leaned in and shouted, “My name’s Chloe!”

Beca, holding in her laugh, tried again. “No, I asked if you had any money.”

“CHLOE!” was the only response she got back, this time positively screamed at her.

Beca couldn’t stop her laugh this time as she yelled back, “Hi, Chloe, I’m Beca. The DJ.”

Chloe smiled, but looked like this information didn’t mean anything to her, and instead simply yelled for her four Sambucas again. 

A soft smile lifted Beca’s lips; Chloe was absolutely adorable. And also somehow completely beautiful at the same time, even though she was drunk enough to confuse the DJ booth and the bar.

“Chloe, this is the DJ booth!” Beca shouted, trying her hardest to make Chloe understand. Chloe’s only response was to hoist a credit card above her head in attempt to purchase the desired drinks. 

Beca tried again. “The bar is over there!” she yelled with a point in the right direction.

With a cute pout, Chloe called, “Whaaat?” Beca wasn’t sure if she couldn’t hear her or if she was genuinely confused about the location of the bar. The tall blonde and the busty brunette were no help at all, merely watching the loud and drunken exchange. 

“The bar’s over there, love,” elaborated Beca with a somewhat wild gesture toward the bar. 

Turning away slightly, Chloe finally seemed to understand. She pressed her credit card into her forehead with a frustrated expression and started to move away from the booth. Beca watched her go, shaking her head, amused. She was about to turn away and begin her finale series when Chloe’s brunette friend reached out an arm to stop her.

Beca leaned toward her automatically to hear what she had to say, and before she knew it, a piece of paper was being shoved into her hand.

The leggy brunette friend craned over the booth wall to shout into Beca’s ear, “Here’s Chloe’s number. She was watching you all night.”

Beca looked down at the digits scrawled across the paper in rushed handwriting. She really shouldn’t take it. Chloe was clearly incredibly drunk, and Beca didn’t want to take advantage of that. 

“I don’t know if – “

But she was cut off by the brunette, “No, take it. We got her to drink that much – it was the only way she was going to sack up and talk to you. She likes you. It’s okay.”

Beca stared at the paper in her hand for a little longer before making her decision. A corner of her mouth quirked up in an awkward smile as she slid the paper with Chloe’s number into her pocket. 

“Thanks, I’ll be sure to text her later.”

The tall brunette smiled excitedly in return, extending a hand for Beca to shake. “I’m Stacie, and this is Aubrey. We hope we’ll be seeing you around soon.” With a wink and a wave, Stacie dragged the blonde Aubrey (who, Beca had noticed, had mostly glared at her for the entirety of the conversation) off to follow Chloe to the bar.

Shaking her head at their antics, Beca was finally able to return to her soundboard to kick off the finale series. She couldn’t quite believe what had just happened, and she hoped it hadn’t been some form of psychotic break on her part. But then, she felt the paper crinkle in her pocket, and she grinned. She’d definitely be messaging Chloe tomorrow.

Maybe in the afternoon.


End file.
